It’s hard to regulate my speed when my anxiety climbs. I know better, and yet I’m still flying around the bends quicker than I should.
Fear curdles in my gut.
Please let me catch up. Let her be safe.
Sweet relief spreads as soon as I spot the taillights of the CR-V.
“There you are!”
Gemma doesn’t slow down, though. She speeds up. I curse and follow her. I lay on the horn to get her attention, thinking she might not realize it’s me. It makes things worse.
Her car swerves, careening around the curve in the road too quickly.
“No! Gemma!”
A flash of lightning blinds me for a second.
The CR-V whips around, tires losing traction on the wet road. I suck in a breath and slam on the breaks as the CR-V finishes spinning out. We’re lined up for a head on collision.
I’ll go from her savior to the one that takes her life. My foot crushes the brake pedal. I’m too scared to speak, pleading in my head.
The CR-V skids to a stop, the whole car rocking with the force. Gemma did it, she stopped!
My elation shatters when I see the car still rocking. I manage to fully brake a few feet away. The Range Rover is barely in park before I sprint from the car.
The back wheel of the CR-V teeters off the edge of the road, dangling over the muddy slope with no traction. It’s too close for comfort.
“Gemma!” My lungs burn with the force of my scream.
I reach the CR-V and wrench the door open in a flurry of movement, blood smearing over my hand as the rain batters me. I reach in to cut the engine, then pull her from the car into the pouring rain.
She’s lucky. Another few inches and her car might have overbalanced to slide down the incline. I think we’re in the clear.
Lightning illuminates us, highlighting her broken face. My heart clenches.
“Gemma.” I tuck her against my body. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”
She trembles all over. I hold her tight as we’re battered by rain. The thunder makes her jump.
“You broke your promise.” I press my lips to the top of her head. “You promised to never scare me like that again. Then you did the same fucking thing.”
Gemma starts to cry, burying hiccuping gasps against my chest. I crush her body against mine, needing to envelope her in security. I’ll protect her.
Even if I don’t deserve her.
“Shh, sweetheart.” I stroke her hair. Words spill forth. I’m powerless to stop the confessions flowing out me. “I’m so sorry, Gemma. About everything. I should’ve fought harder. Spoken up. Protected you better. I never should’ve hurt you. I don’t want to do that. I only want to make you happy. I want you to smile always.”
Her hands burrow in my shirt, clinging to the material. I cup her face and tilt her head to see her eyes.
“I’ll always keep you safe now.”
Gemma nods, her face a painting of torment that spears my heart. With my unbloodied hand, I swipe the rain and tears away. Gemma’s lip wobbles and she stares up at me with big green eyes.
I kiss her, my lips a soft press against hers as I cradle her face like it’s fragile.
I know she’s not fragile. She’s strong. Fierce.
The girl who snuck up on me, who challenged me, who made me face the mask I’ve worn for so long.